900,000 Orphans. All due to AIDS.

It’s a tragedy, yes. In Malawi, a small country in Eastern Africa, estimates are that there are at least 900,000 children orphaned as a result of their parents dying from AIDS.

It’s so bad that even Madonna is attempting to adopt a Malawian child.

Most of you who read me often know that I am a globalist—that is to say, I believe that there is little that happens on planet Earth that does not impact us all in some way. In addition, I am also a Christian—that is a believer in and a follower of Jesus Christ. Finally, I am an American and proud of it.

I mention these things because the entire continent of Africa troubles me. My soul grieves for the orphans, my heart breaks for the countries that have been experiencing civil war for decades (e.g., The Sudan) and my tears fall for the utter poverty that most African nations have endured for over a century.

And I worry about the impact of all of these factors on our shared home, planet Earth.

But this story deeply and profoundly troubled my spirit because of the sheer number of children affected. Some sources have placed the number of orphans as high as 1.1 million.

1.1 million children without parents.

As I read about it, I became speechless, and intensely saddened. I thought of Christopher Reeve and his wife, Dana. Both died too young, and left a young son behind. I thought of my former church member, a divorced mother, who died suddenly at age 49, and left two young children behind.

I thought of myself at my own father’s funeral. (I was fully a woman grown, with a child of my own, yet I could not help but cry out when they closed his coffin for the final time, “Oh Mama—my Daddy’s gone!” I broke into deep sobs, and apparently so did everyone else in the church.)

There’s just something about losing a parent.

Once you do, you recognize the sad, hollow look in the eyes that comes from realizing that a piece of you is gone. You know the strange aloneness you feel as people console you. I guess we experience these things because we feel we belong to something bigger when our parents are alive—a security blanket of people who’ll never deny you--and that means we're protected. The world is not such a scary place.

That is, of course, if you have decent, loving parents.

I have no quick fixes, no snazzy economic solutions, and no crisp wisdoms to share in this piece. We all know in our souls the right thing to do. Still, I realize that at this point, I’m supposed to conclude with something positive and inspirational, to give us all hope, to make it feel better.

But I just couldn’t do that today.

I couldn’t stop the tears long enough.

Wendi